


No Fleeting Brilliance

by chloe_amethyst



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, Tolkien - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 07:16:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2058924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chloe_amethyst/pseuds/chloe_amethyst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erestor has traveled with great expectations from the Greenwood to Imladris to meet the legendary Lord Glorfindel and to honor the terms of an arranged marriage. Glorfindel, alone since he was returned to Arda, is not so sure he can give his heart to another again. When they meet, will there be fireworks, or is this a disaster in the making? Written for the 2014 Ardor in August gift exchange.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Fleeting Brilliance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aprilmoon08](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aprilmoon08/gifts).



> Written for Aprilmoon08 for Ardor in August 2014. I couldn’t squeeze in all the elements, but I hope you enjoy. It’s been a pleasure writing for you!
> 
> Beta: Erviniae the Mighty. All remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> Requested Story elements: I would like to see an arranged marriage, where Erestor is coming from Mirkwood. Would like to see new beginnings, learning new things, learning new rules. Glorfindel could be a little unrefined but still cultured- he is a warrior. Erestor has led a sheltered life. Erestor is still a trained warrior, but not like Glorfindel. More of an archer and fights with twin blades. a bit of a know it all. Glorfindel LOVES sex. There is a cat in the story. A direction would be if you were suddenly in a marriage to someone you didn't really know well, how would you react. Would like Glorfindel to be Dom as well, and a bit of a hippy: free love and a pleasure seeker. Wouldn't mind seeing a threesome in there as well with Glorfindel and two others. Happy ending please.
> 
> Notes: For purposes of this story, the Peredhil twins’ birth has occurred later than in Tolkien’s timeline, and the Battle of Fornost earlier.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“I still have doubts about this arrangement, Dochanar.” Glorfindel sat with his second in command on a bench in the training field, outside the guard’s main barracks, and stared up at the stars. His golden hair, typically unbraided when he was at home in Imladris, fell wildly around his face and down his back. His companion had the dark hair more typical of the Noldor.

“I know, my lord,” Dochanar nodded.

“Perhaps I’m not meant to marry in this lifetime. Perhaps I’m not the “marrying kind” as they say.”

Dochanar passed a flagon of brandy to his lord after taking a long draught. “Could be, my lord. Then again, how will you know unless you give it a try? Married life is a great comfort to me. I can’t imagine not having Maewves joined to me.”

“Yes, well, Maewves is one of a kind. She doesn’t mind you having a bit of fun now and again.” Glorfindel took two large gulps of brandy and exhaled through pursed lips as the burn flared. He handed the flagon back to Dochanar.

“True, my lord, as long as hers is the only bed to which I retire, she doesn’t begrudge me occasional nights of excessive merriment.” Dochanar broke out into a broad grin.

Glorfindel laughed. ’Excessive merriment! Ha! So says the elf that could drink the hardiest dwarf under the table, and possibly the entire Imladris garrison as well.”

Dochanar chuckled and took another drink. “Maewves also understands occasional inebriation is the way of warriors, especially after particularly vicious tangles with orcs.”

“Aye. Sometimes strong drink is all that will clear the stench of orc blood from my nose, not to mention the stench of other things...” Glorfindel’s voice trailed off and he stilled for a few moments. Pictures of Gondolin’s fall passed through his mind’s eye.

“My lord, before that terrible day in Gondolin, you were married for many years. Has there been no other partner all this time?”

“No, there hasn’t. There have been, shall I say, brief dalliances and distractions. But none have claimed my heart. Elrond has attempted to pair me off before for a strategically advantageous match. I was always able to resist until now. I’m not sure what is different this time that led me to agree. Let’s hope this cousin of Thranduil’s has his king’s good looks and a much more pleasant disposition!”

“I’ll drink to that, my lord!” Dochanar laughed and took another deep drink of brandy before passing it back to his commander. “Rumor has it that this Erestor is quite the prize, renowned for his grace and beauty as well as his intellect. I hear he’s quite skilled with the bow as well.”

“I suppose we shall see tomorrow evening when he is formally presented to me. Until then, let’s finish off this brandy,” Glorfindel replied with a grin.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Erestor paced the floor of the room he had been shown to after arriving in Imladris late in the evening. Today was the final day of an arduous journey from the Greenwood, but he could not rest while his mind was whirling with thoughts of the next day. Tomorrow evening he would be formally presented to his betrothed, the famed Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower. He knew he should be thrilled with such an honor, but all he felt at present was slightly nauseous. 

He had lived in Thranduil’s kingdom all his life, except for a few years stay in Lothlorien with kin in his youth. He never dreamed he would come to live west of the Misty Mountains in fabled Imladris, much less be chosen to marry Lord Glorfindel. His king had called him to his halls and explained that a great honor had been granted to him, one that would be recorded in the histories of Arda. Two great elven households would be brought into alliance after years of fractiousness, ushering in a new age of cooperation.

While that all sounded wonderful and Erestor had been filled with pride to have been chosen as worthy of such an honor, the reality had now taken up residence in his gut, where it felt like a swarm of bees had set up housekeeping. As his party of travelers entered the valley of Imladris, the enormity of the change hit him full on. The landscape, the elves, their homes along the Bruinen, and the Last Homely House itself were so very different from his home. The house of Lord Elrond was beautiful. It sat perched on the high gorge wall with waterfalls flowing around it, and high windows and carved gables gave it the appearance of openness and invitation as well as elegance. How very different it was from Thranduil’s halls deep underground.

The would-be mates had never met. Erestor had only seen a likeness of Glorfindel painted in miniature on a small, oval piece of porcelain that had been worked into a mantle over a hearth in his mother’s home. The hearth’s elaborate carvings and porcelain insets told stories of the great elven kingdoms, and as a child Erestor would daydream that the decorations would come to life and tell their stories. But he was not betrothed to a story, and he wondered how the real Glorfindel would compare to the legend. 

With such a reputation, Erestor thought, certainly he will be of such noble bearing that all who gaze on him will know he is among the great lords of the Firstborn. His decorum will be on display in everything he does and his wisdom in all his speech. Erestor would be privy to the little things that bring the legend down to Arda: his favorite foods, colors, songs, and the way he makes love.

All that speculation brought Erestor back to the primary source of his nausea. What were Glorfindel’s expectations? Would Erestor be enough for one so illustrious? On the positive side, Erestor thought he exemplified the character of those allowed to serve in Thranduil’s guard: strict discipline, self-sacrifice, upright character and morals, and a commitment to constant vigilance. All this was necessary for the security of the Greenwood, and Imladris could be no different. Glorfindel’s fame as a warrior, unsurpassed for his bravery and dedication to first Turgon, and now Lord Elrond, had to mean he was perfection itself in his conduct. Those are qualities Glorfindel would desire in a mate, and Erestor, despite not being as experienced, would be perfect for him.

If not, he would be sent back to Thranduil, in disgrace, and that simply could not happen. Just thinking on that possible outcome made his stomach feel like it was doing somersaults. Erestor decided to go for a walk around the grounds. Opening the double doors on one side of his chamber, Erestor stepped out into the night.

The distant roar of the waterfalls accompanied Erestor as he wound his way on the paths through Imladris’ gardens. Night blooming jasmine and honeysuckle perfumed the air, and nightingales called to each other from the trees. A light breeze grew stronger as he walked, and he noted lightning flashes in the distance, down in the valley, which heralded the eventual arrival of a summer storm. The gardens delighted him as he passed from one section to another. One part was very formal, with stone paved walkways that passed boxwood hedges and carefully spaced marble statuary placed in front of shimmering reflecting pools. Next he passed through an herb garden, carefully divided into culinary, medicinal, and fragrant sections. Their scents blended together and helped to clear his mind as he walked. He passed through an orchard and collections of roses and wildflowers as he continued on, and he was eager to visit again in the daylight. 

As he walked, Erestor became aware of the sound of laughter somewhere on the grounds of the Last Homely House. He decided to walk toward it and eventually came to the far end of the gardens where there sat several long outbuildings. The outbuildings were situated around a large, open square of flat ground that was set up for training in arms. He peered around the corner and spied in the square two elves, both in the leggings, tunics, and vambraces in muted greens and browns typically worn by Imladris’ guard . One was very tall and fair, his light hair unbraided and flowing in a riot about his head. The other was shorter, with dark hair, like Erestor’s own, but in plaits that had loosened, allowing many unruly strands to fly free. The tall one stood in front of a large wooden board onto which a target was painted, his left hand wrapped around a flagon and the other holding a sword. The dark one opposite him had in his hands two axes, one of which he threw forward with all his might. The ax hit the target a couple of feet from the tall elf’s shoulders, and both began laughing uproariously.

“Lucky strike, Dochanar,” the tall one said. “Now give them to me and I’ll show you how it’s done! I’ll land the axe within mere inches of your swollen head!”

“Bah! You’re not besting me tonight!” The thrower went to the target and grabbed the flagon from the tall one. “But first I need to be a bit drunker for when you throw poorly and cut off my ear!” Again came the laughter.

Erestor’s jaw dropped as he watched these buffoons play their game for a bit longer before quietly backing away and retreating toward his quarters. A dozen questions ran through his mind. Does Glorfindel know about members of his guard behaving this shamefully, displaying no sense of duty or decorum? Glorfindel and Lord Elrond could not possibly condone the drunken behavior of these two individuals. They must not know. This is just the kind of thing that Erestor can help Glorfindel set right after they are wed.

The wind had picked up sharply as Erestor made his way back to his rooms, and thunder now accompanied the lightning as the storm moved in. A few yards from the door the torrent of rain began to fall, and Erestor sprinted the rest of the way, dashing inside as the thunder boomed. He changed out of his dampened clothing into a simple robe of dark green, and then he sat before a table with a mirror to undo his braids and comb out his jet black hair.

As the worst of the storm passed, the sound of the thunder grew quieter, but the heavy rain continued outside Erestor’s door. In the midst of the rain pattering, he thought he heard a tiny noise, like that of an animal. He cocked his head and it sounded again very near his door. He got up to peer out the window into the dark but saw nothing. The small cry sounded again. Erestor opened the door that led out to the grounds and saw a small, soaking wet cat looking up at him. 

“And who might you be? Caught in the storm, eh?” The cat then walked into Erestor’s room and began rubbing the wet fur of its flanks against Erestor’s legs. “You’re a friendly one. I wonder whose you are.”

Erestor went into his adjoining bath to grab a towel and the cat followed him. He knelt down and began drying off the little fellow. Its fur was beige to light cream, with slightly darker stripes. It seemed to enjoy the attention and began to purr.

“Feeling better now? Good. Now, how shall I find out to whom you belong? I don’t really know anyone here, except the few who welcomed my arrival so late and showed my companions to our rooms.”

There came a knock on Erestor’s chamber door. Perhaps it was the elf who temporarily misplaced a cat. He exited the bath and opened the door to the sight of two completely identical elflings standing before him wearing sleeping clothes. He blinked a few times thinking he had started seeing double.

“Hello! I’m Elladan!” said the one with a smile.

“And I’m Elrohir!” said the other. “What’s your name? Are you new here?”

“I am called Erestor. I’m very pleased to meet you, Elladan and, um...”

“Elrohir!” proclaimed the second elfling as the two of them walked right past Erestor and into the room.

“Elrohir,” repeated Erestor. “Yes, I am new. I’ve only just arrived tonight from the Greenwood.”

“We’ve never been there before. Is it far?” asked the first.

“Master Lindir taught us a song about the Greenwood once. But I hate music lessons,” said the second before Erestor could reply.

“I like them best!” said the first.

“One time we played a joke and Elladan went to a week of Master Lindir’s lessons pretending to be me!” Both elflings dissolved into giggles.

“Ada was cross, and Nana said we were naughty to play tricks on kind Master Lindir.”

“Do they ever play tricks in the Greenwood?”

The questions poured effusively from the two elflings who rarely paused long enough for Erestor to answer. He lost track completely of which elfling was which. Finally he was able to break in with a question of his own. “Who are your Ada and your Nana?”

“Ada is Lord Elrond. Nana is Lady Celebrían. They are in their room, sleeping.”

“They think we are sleeping, too. You won’t tell them, will you?”

“You have my word,” Erestor replied with a smile. “But perhaps it’s best that you go back to bed. It’s late and you wouldn’t want your Ada and Nana to worry.”

“We have to find our cat first! Have you seen him?”

“There was a storm and he might be afraid.”

“Are you afraid of storms, Erestor? Nana says they are just clouds playing a loud game of chase and the thunder is when they tackle each other. I think that might be a pretend story.”

“I think I may have found your cat,” Erestor told them. “I heard one outside mewing and he was soaking wet so I let him in. Is your cat cream-colored?”

“Oh yes! Where is he?” said one elfling looking around the room.

“Maybe he is hiding,” said the other.

Erestor walked to his bath. “I think he’s in here. Ah! There he is.” The elflings excitedly dashed into the bath, and the cat dashed right past them and hid under Erestor’s bed. The elflings’ faces wore the same expression of dismay.

“Perhaps he is still feeling a bit nervous and will come out after a bit if we are all gentle,” Erestor offered by way of explanation. “What’s his name, by the way?”

“We don’t know,” said one elfling. “We only just found him today when we were in the garden playing and....”

The other elfling piped in. “We asked Ada if we could keep him, and he said we first had to find out if he belonged to anyone else here. We haven’t even given him a name yet because he might already have one.”

“What do you think would be a good name, Erestor?”

“Well, let me see. Hmm, how about ‘Loenor’, because he came to my door soaking wet?.”

Both elflings clapped in delight, exclaiming it as a perfect name if they were allowed to keep him.

“Erestor, would you like Loenor to spend the night in your room?” asked one elfling.

“Oh! Good idea!” exclaimed the other. “He can keep you company because you are new here, and then you won’t miss your home so much.”

“You are very kind, Elrohir, and I would be delighted to have Loenor’s company.” Erestor bowed to both elflings, touched at their concern for him.

“No, I’m Elladan!” exclaimed the elfling. Erestor quickly made his apologies for mixing them up and wondered silently how anyone ever told them apart.

“Now then, will you young lords please allow me to escort you back to your room? We all need our sleep,” Erestor pointed out. Both elflings agreed, one of them yawning, and they led Erestor back to their rooms where they all said goodnight. At least he had managed to make a couple of friends in Imladris. Hopefully, after he would be formally presented tomorrow, he would make more.

The next day, Erestor was up before the dawn taking his bath, carefully dressing in his finest robes of blue velvet and silk, and working his hair into perfect braids. His glossy hair shown like obsidian, and he hoped Glorfindel would be pleased. During the night, Loenor had left his refuge under the bed and had nestled himself onto the pillow beside Erestor. Now the cat sat washing himself in a spot of early morning sunshine that streamed through the windows.

Erestor was ready to meet the day’s challenges. He would stride confidently into the formal presentation and the feast that followed, prepared to meet his future spouse and all of Lord Elrond’s household. Nothing would shake his resolve to present himself as one they would be proud to call their own. There was only one problem; the presentation would not take place for another nine hours.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

In another part of the Last Homely House, Glorfindel sat in Elrond's office in an ornately carved, but hard and uncomfortable, oak chair. "Why haven't you furnished your office with more comfortable chairs, Elrond? I've told you for years that you ought to attend to the comfort of those who must meet with you."

"Because I hate long meetings, and uncomfortable chairs discourage those who wish to linger and ramble on." Elrond had a bit of a smirk on his face as he explained. “I can’t imagine you came to me this morning to talk of furniture. How may I help you, old friend?

Glorfindel took a deep breath. “It’s about...er.. .I’ve been thinking... It’s this whole blasted marriage business.”

Elrond look at him in all seriousness. “What about it?”

“Look, I know you’ve gone to a great deal of trouble to make this arrangement, and the guests have traveled great distances to be here, but I’m not sure I’m quite comfortable with it.”

“Oh?” One of Elrond’s brows quirked higher. Not a good sign.

“It’s just that I’ve been a bachelor for a long time. I’m rather used to it. You know, set in my ways. Why do I need a spouse?”

“To have a family of your own, for one thing,” Elrond replied.

“But you are my family, Elrond. You, and Celebrían. And the twins are as nephews to me. I’m perfectly happy.”

“Perfectly happy? Is that why you so rarely sleep, Glorfindel? Is that why you restlessly roam the grounds many nights? And why, when you do sleep, your rest is fitful and you cry out in the dark for your lost family in Gondolin? Is that why many times that I’ve spied you alone, your face and posture are the very picture of misery? You work very hard to cover that part of yourself, but those closest to you can see the truth.”

“How humiliating,” Glorfindel murmured.

“My dear friend, I do not say these things to humiliate you. Rather, as one old warrior to another, I can see how these long years of living with grievous loss have affected you. You are still the greatest warrior on Arda, but that does not come without a terrible price. I paid a great price, too, and I thank Eru Ilúvatar daily for sending me the balm that finally brought my soul some peace--my Celebrían. I wish the same for you. It’s time to once again open your heart.”

To add to his humiliation, Glorfindel felt his eyes growing damp. He took a deep breath and blew it out to recover himself.

“Besides,” Elrond continued, “If, through this alliance, we can make even the smallest hole in the shell of that crusty crustacean, King Thranduil, think how much intelligence we’ll gather about any threats rising in the East. We will then be all the more able to protect the elven realms to the west. Plus, think of all the delicious Greenwood wine Thranduil will bring to the wedding. That alone may be worth it.”

Elrond and Glorfindel chuckled together. “Aye, you have a good point there,” Glorfindel conceded with a smile.

“In all seriousness, my friend, give this marriage a chance. From everything I’ve heard, Erestor is an intelligent, handsome, and brave young elf. You might just find him delightful. All I ask is you give it a try. However, if after a time the marriage is truly making you unhappy, you have my word that it will be annulled. Erestor will go back to Thranduil, you will go back to single life, and we still will have drunk Thranduil’s wine.”

Elrond had a warm smile on his face, and there was wisdom and compassion in his eyes despite his joke. Glorfindel knew that Elrond held close to his heart both his family and Glorfindel, and he knew his lord would not have made this arrangement if he did not truly believe it was in Glorfindel’s best interest. Therefore, Glorfindel reluctantly nodded his agreement.

“Very well. I shall hold you to that if this marriage ends up being a disaster.” Glorfindel stood to leave.

Elrond stood and put a hand on Glorfindel’s shoulder. “I always keep my word. Now, go change into your best robes, comb your hair, put a smile on your face, and get ready for the festivities.”

“Yes, my lord,” Glorfindel grinned back. “And thank you, Elrond.” The two lords embraced and slapped each other on the back. Glorfindel turned to walk back to his rooms.

Walking the corridors, he turned a corner and was confronted with two high-pitched, excited voices. “Uncle! Uncle!”

The twins ran up and wrapped their small hands around his legs. Master Lindir, looking a bit out of breath, followed them close behind.

“Elladan! Elrohir! Good morning! How are you this fine day?

“Guess what, Uncle! Guess what!” Elrohir exclaimed.

The twins always conversed in a rapid-fire assault of exclamations and questions that would hit the listener like a cyclone. And Glorfindel loved every bit of it. “What is it?”

“We met a new friend!” exclaimed Elladan.

“And we have a cat!” Elrohir declared with equal gusto.

“Your new friend is a cat?”

“Noooo uncle, our new friend is Erestor. He is very nice and found Loenor for us when...”

“...when he was afraid of the storm!” Elladan interrupted Elrohir.

“Erestor was afraid of the storm?”

“Noooo, uncle!!” both twins said with giggles.

“Loenor was afraid of the storm.” Elrohir explained. “Erestor is a grown-up. Loenor is our cat.”

“He is the nicest cat we ever saw. And the softest, too.”

“Ada and Nana said we could keep him. Have you ever had a cat, Uncle?”

“Our new friend Erestor is from the Greenwood. Have you ever been to the Greenwood, Uncle? Is everyone there nice like Erestor?”

“Do they have elflings in the Greenwood, Uncle?

“Do you think Asfaloth would like to meet our cat?”

“Oh yes! Please, Uncle!”

As usual, Glorfindel could not get a word in edgewise. Finally, Master Lindir interrupted and told the twins they had to go to the music room to begin their lesson. 

“Master Lindir is right. Best get to your lesson. Later, we’ll talk more about Asfaloth meeting your cat.” Glorfindel patted their heads.

“And meeting Erestor!” both twins squealed.

“Yes. And Erestor. Now off you go. Remember, no playing tricks on kind Master Lindir.”

“Yes, Uncle!” 

“Goodbye, Uncle!”

Lindir took each elfling by the hand and bowed his blond head to Glorfindel’s. “Good day to you, my lord. Until this evening.”

“And to you, Master Lindir.” Glorfindel continued on to his rooms and began his preparations. He hoped he would share the twins’ apparent fondness for Erestor after their meeting tonight.

Several hours later, Erestor walked toward Elrond’s great hall in a small ceremonial procession. Two members of the House Guard, in gleaming silver armor, flanked the front and rear of the line. Immediately in front of him, walking arm in arm, were two elves of the Greenwood, Aithon and Arasbes, who had been wed so long that not many could remember exactly when they were married. They were serving as symbolic guardians who would “give” Erestor to the new home he would be making with his betrothed. 

Although his outer demeanor appeared noble and calm, Erestor’s heart was beating furiously with his excitement, for at last he would lay eyes on the mighty Glorfindel of the Firstborn. His excitement was paired with trepidation over the great warrior’s reaction to him. He sent a silent prayer to Eru that Glorfindel would find him comely, decorous, and an excellent match.

The procession entered the great hall of Imladris in which had assembled members of both the small and great councils, the captains of the guard and their seconds, the lord and lady of the valley, their attendants, and other dignitaries. Heralds blew trumpets announcing the procession’s arrival, and an advisor read from a scroll. Aithon and Arasbes replied with a carefully scripted speech that praised the alliance of the Greenwood and Imladris, the marriage contract, and then Erestor was finally brought forth.

Erestor had listened to the speakers only half way as his eyes darted around their hosts, trying to figure out which elf was Glorfindel. There were two fair-haired elves standing close to Elrond and Celebrían. Shockingly, one elf was the taller drunkard he had observed last night on the training field behaving disgracefully. He wore fine robes of pale blue heavily embroidered with gold threads, but his hair was still unbraided although not as unkempt as last night. Could he not be bothered with braids for a formal ceremony? Here in daylight, Erestor could see he was astonishingly handsome, with a strong jaw, bright blue eyes, and strong, broad shoulders. His presence indicates he must hold high rank here, Erestor thought, and he must be able to keep his derelict character hidden from his lord.

Resting his gaze upon the other fair-haired elf, Erestor decided this must at last be Glorfindel, although he was not as tall as expected, nor as handsome. The elf was certainly not plain and did have a pleasing countenance, with bright green eyes and a natural blush upon his cheeks. His hair was very carefully and intricately braided, which Erestor found very pleasing.

After Erestor had made his formal bow and had given a proper greeting to Lord Elrond, it was to this second blond elf that Erestor bowed next, and he recited a carefully rehearsed speech expressing joy at their upcoming union and pledging his loyalty and love.

As Erestor finished, the crowd began to murmur quietly, and some of the elves brought their hands up to cover their grins. Lord Elrond cleared his throat then stepped close to Erestor to whisper into his ear.

“Erestor, that is not Glorfindel. That is Lindir, Master of Music. Glorfindel is that one.” Elrond made a small hand gesture pointing to the tall blue-eyed elf with the wild hair--the drunkard from last night.

Erestor’s jaw dropped. The tall elf stepped forward and took one of Erestor’s hands. “I am pleased to finally meet you, Erestor. I hope you will eventually give me your loyalty and love, but I must admit that our esteemed Master of Music can carry a tune much better than I.” And then this Glorfindel, the real Glorfindel, winked at him and smiled. Erestor only gaped.

The next morning, Erestor again rose early even though he did not return to his rooms after the feast until the wee hours of the morning. He had spent the evening in great discomfort sitting at a long table set upon a dais in the great hall, with Glorfindel sitting on one side and Elrond on the other. Huge silver platters of fish and fowl, tureens of simmering soups, small towers made of fresh fruits, and plates of pastries and puddings were brought from the kitchens by a small army of servants. Musicians played while guests chatted, laughed, and drank their goblets of wine and dwarven ale. 

But Erestor had no appetite for either the food or the merriment. Many elves came to him and offered their welcomes and well wishes, and Erestor thanked them politely but with an economy of words. Glorfindel tried to engage him in conversation a few times, but Erestor only had one word responses. All he could think about was the best way to get out of this arranged marriage. He had been duped; all those old stories about the esteemed Lord of the House of the Golden Flower had been just that--stories. Glorfindel finally gave up trying to make conversation and rose to go speak with Dochanar, whom Erestor recognized as the other drunken elf from the night before. The awkward night went on and on, and at the end of the festivities, Glorfindel walked Erestor back to his rooms. Erestor offered a quick “goodnight” then slipped inside his room and locked the door.

This morning, Erestor sat on his bed figuring out the careful words he would have to use to convince Elrond to let him out of the marriage contract without causing offense or a further deterioration of diplomatic relations with Imladris. His king and kin in the Greenwood would understand why the contract had to be revoked and would likely consider it a wise move.

He requested an audience with Lord Elrond, and it was granted for later that morning. When the time arrived, he sat down in a beautifully carved, but very uncomfortable, wooden chair in front of the desk of the Lord of Imladris.

“My lord,” he began tentatively, “I am grateful for the kind reception you have given me. I also appreciate the importance of honoring contracts between realms. I would like nothing better than for our peoples to come together in alliance. But, I do not believe that marriage to Lord Glorfindel can possibly be the instrument to that alliance.”

One of Elrond’s eyebrows lifted in a high arch towards his hairline. “Oh? And why is that?”

“After very careful consideration, my lord, I do not believe that Glorfindel and I have any compatibility. I have observed that our characters are so different from one another’s that a true bond in marriage will be impossible to achieve. Thus I have come to beg you to rescind the terms of the contract and to allow me to return to the Greenwood, rather than have us marry only to suffer the humiliation of dissolving our union.”

“I see.” Elrond leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms, and placed a hand on his chin as he contemplated Erestor. “Have you spoken of this with Lord Glorfindel?”

“No, my lord. I have not seen him since last night’s feast.”

“What is it about Lord Glorfindel’s character that you find so dissimilar from yours?”

Erestor swallowed hard and cleared his throat. He had hoped, perhaps unrealistically, that he would not have to go into details.

“In the Greenwood, I was raised to be a warrior, like most of my kin. There is a strict code that we live by of self-discipline, self-denial, and sacrifice. We must set an example and live a life of great restraint and unblemished conduct, because without it, our defenses could be vulnerable to the darkness that continually threatens the Greenwood. I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course. Go on.”

“My lord, I was also raised on tales of the heroes of the Firstborn, Glorfindel of Gondolin among them. I suppose because of those tales, I had certain expectations. I thought he would conduct himself much like the code which the Greenwood demands, otherwise he would not have the reputation he does. I truly hate to cast aspersions on one of your valley’s greatest heroes, but I observed something troubling my first night in Imladris. On the training field, down by the barracks, I observed Lord Glorfindel and the elf called Dochanar, and they were...”

“Let me guess,” interrupted Elrond. “You saw them deep in their cups and acting like fools.”

“Why, yes! That is exactly what I saw. You already know of this?”

“Of course I do. I know of many other past instances of their occasionally reckless hijinks.”

“Then, begging your pardon, why do you allow it, my lord?”

Elrond sat back in his chair and paused in thought before he spoke. “Do you also know that Glorfindel and Dochanar had only returned to Imladris a few hours prior to your arrival? They and a half-dozen warriors were gone for six weeks after I received a plea from a small village of men to the north for aid. A band of near thirty orcs had attacked in the night and set fire to their fields and round houses and killed the livestock. The men held them off for as long as possible, but when Glorfindel’s warriors arrived, nearly every man in the village had been slaughtered. Some of the women, children, and aged had escaped to a nearby cave, with only pitchforks and scythes to defend themselves. Glorfindel's company slaughtered every orc there, but many villagers, including several children, had already perished by orc blades.”

“Glorfindel sent word to me that that the refugees needed food, blankets, medicines, tools to build shelters, and grain to keep the people fed until next year’s harvest. After helping the villagers to bury their dead, Glorfindel and Dochanar personally oversaw the relief effort and only returned home when sure the remaining villagers had what they needed to survive. Upon the warriors’ return, Glorfindel came to brief me. I could see his heart was heavy, especially over the loss of so many innocent children.”

“I did not know any of this,” Erestor whispered.

Elrond rose from behind his desk. “Come with me, Erestor. I want to show you something.”

Erestor followed Elrond down the hallway and into a very large room with vaulted ceilings. The walls from top to bottom were lined with shelves that were overflowing with all manner of scrolls, books, and maps. The titles on the book spines were in every language Erestor was familiar with and many that he was not. Tall ladders were propped up against the walls to access the works, and several scholars and scribes were hunched over books or parchments spread out on long tables.

Elrond led Erestor to a cabinet with glass doors in which were kept two very battered looking journals, each covered in old, stained leather. Elrond very gently lifted both books, brought them to one of the tables, and asked Erestor to sit down with him.

“These are two of the most important works in our library,” Elrond explained. “They contain histories of the greatest warrior on Arda, our Lord Glorfindel. But they were not written by lore masters recounting legends, or by bards who wrote songs of praise for heroes, which schoolchildren learn by heart. Rather, these are the diaries of eyewitnesses--soldiers who actually fought alongside Glorfindel. One recounts the Fall of Gondolin by one of the Gondolindrim; in the other, a veteran of the Battle of Fornost recorded his time serving under Glorfindel. I ask you, please, to spend a few hours reading these and then come seek me out. If your mind is not changed, then I will grant your request and cancel the contract.” 

With that, Elrond left the great library, and Erestor began to read.

Erestor was not sure how many hours had passed as he read. His thoughts and emotions were utterly consumed by the words. These were the accounts of ordinary foot soldiers, and they told of horrors encountered over seemingly endless days and nights. Scores of beloved comrades killed by sword, spear, and dragon fire; bitter betrayals of allies and kinsmen; scorching thirst and near starvation when cut off from supplies; and fear and hatred for their enemies filled these pages. But there was more. It became crystal clear to Erestor that the one thing that kept these soldiers fighting, what gave them a glimpse of hope when all seemed lost, was their beloved commander Glorfindel.

The Gondolindrim recounted how Glorfindel never faltered, even when he realized that his great house was destroyed, and his family slaughtered, while he fought in the streets of Gondolin. He had three young children, two daughters and a son, and a wife he cherished. Still he fought on and rallied the survivors to cut through the orcs and escape the city, protecting the refugees at all costs until he lost his own life. Inspired by his bravery and sacrifice, the warriors eventually brought the refugees to safety.

The account of Fornost was filled with its own horrors, but the forces led by Glorfindel from Imladris crushed the host of Angmar. Again the love the warriors had for their commander was on display. Glorfindel would often go walking among them while they prepared for the next assault, and he asked them about their families and their lives in peacetime. They would often share a joke with him or a bawdy tale, and strong drink if they could get it. Occasionally, they would even share carnal pleasures when the opportunity arose during a lull in the fighting. The release gave the heart a few moments ease when so far from home. Glorfindel was above his soldiers as their commander, but he was also one of them, and they would follow him anywhere and do anything he asked. They knew he would do no less for them.

Erestor finally began to understand that a living, breathing elf stood underneath the weight of all those Glorfindel legends. This real elf was infinitely more attractive than the one conjured by the storytellers. Stout-hearted he was, but also compassionate. He was wise, but not afraid to play the clown. He cherished the memory of his lost family, and adopted Elrond’s as his own. Through two lifetimes of tragedy and loss, Glorfindel still was able to offer a ready smile and make merry when he could.

Erestor had seen enough and carefully put the books back in their case. He went to see Elrond to tell him he no longer wished to void the marriage contract. Then, he went looking for his betrothed.

Glorfindel was in one corner of the gardens, down on his hands and knees, his golden mane flowing wildly around his head and down his back, with two laughing elflings climbing all over him. He would pause to grab hold of one and flip him upside down to delighted squeals, then set him right and grab the other one for more of the same. In the midst of the game, Elladan and Elrohir spied Erestor approaching. 

“Oh look, Uncle! It’s Erestor!”

Glorfindel turned his merry gaze to Erestor. “Good morning, Erestor. How do you fair?” Before he could answer, the twins began their verbal barrage of exclamations and questions.

“Would you like to play wrestle with us?”

“We don’t have lessons today. Nana said our teachers needed a quiet day. What’s a quiet day?”

“Uncle Glorfindel said he’ll take us fishing later. Do you like fishing, Erestor?”

“Oh please, Uncle! Can Erestor go fishing with us?”

“We’re going to catch a fish for Loenor! Nana said cats like fish, but they don’t like water.”

“She told us we can’t put Loenor in our bath like we wanted.”

As if listening for his own name to come up in conversation, Loenor strolled out from behind a hedge and presented himself to Erestor for a scratch under the chin.

“Yes, I would very much like to go fishing with you, and your uncle.” Erestor looked up into Glorfindel’s sparkling blue eyes. “I would love to.”

For the next six weeks, Erestor and Glorfindel spent many hours courting one another and telling stories about their lives. Since he was so much younger, Erestor’s adventures were fewer by comparison. Nonetheless, Glorfindel listened to every word, asked many questions about life in the Greenwood, and sincerely hoped to one day visit Erestor’s kin there. He also helped Erestor decide the role he would like to undertake in service to Imladris. New warriors were always welcome, but Erestor thought he could make a greater impact as a counselor and diplomat. Besides, he very much wanted to work directly with Lord Elrond and to learn from the great lore master. With Glorfindel beside him, Erestor asked for the opportunity to serve, and Elrond readily agreed.

When Glorfindel talked about his life, it was usually to share a happy memory or funny story. The horrors he had seen and all he had lost were almost never mentioned. Once, when Erestor was feeling a bit homesick and too restless to sleep, he took a late evening stroll through the house and came upon Glorfindel sitting alone in the empty Hall of Fire. In the firelight, he could see his betrothed was lost in thought, and his typically cheerful countenance was replaced by something darker and sorrowful. Erestor went to him, and Glorfindel welcomed Erestor with a genuine grin. They sat together, holding each other close before the fire, long into the night.

“I believe I have fallen in love with you, Counselor,” Glorfindel whispered.

“That’s good to hear because I know that I’m in love with you, my lion,” Erestor replied.

Glorfindel found Erestor’s lips and kissed him very gently at first, but then with an increasing ardor that left Erestor breathless. When the kiss broke, the reflected flames of the fire danced in Glorfindel’s eyes until he closed them to take another deep kiss. Erestor felt his passion rising along with a powerful need to explore every inch of Glorfindel’s body, but he struggled to hold himself in check because tradition dictated that they could not further share their bodies until after the wedding ceremony.

Glorfindel began kissing and nipping at Erestor’s neck and collarbone until a groan of pleasure escaped, and his resolve to follow the rules weakened. He pulled away.

“What is it?” Glorfindel whispered.

“As tempting as you are, there is decorum that we must observe. You know...the tradition of the first night. The custom demands that we must remain chaste until then.”

Glorfindel sighed. “There is one thing I know. Then again, maybe two things. The first is that as long as our lives may be, the chance to really _live_ life may be short. We had all better seize every moment, to love or laugh, whenever and wherever we may. Those moments will sustain us when we have to face the darkness. Pointless customs be damned. None ever gave me a moment’s comfort.”

Erestor smiled. “And the second thing you know my lion?”

Glorfindel ran his lips along Erestor’s neck and whispered in his ear. “I know that I want you Erestor, and that you were meant to be mine. Let me have you.”

Erestor was no blushing virgin, and he demonstrated his eager acquiescence by straddling Glorfindel’s lap and kissing him hard. With his strong hands gripping Erestor’s backside, his warrior came to a stand with Erestor’s legs wrapped around him and their lips still touching. Glorfindel carried him through the silent house and back to Erestor’s chamber this way, kicking the door shut with one foot after they entered. 

Their kiss did not break until Glorfindel set him on the bed and straightened to remove his tunic and the shirt underneath, revealing a well-muscled torso with powerful arms. Erestor could see an impressive erection growing underneath skintight leggings. Glorfindel bent to kiss Erestor again, hard but briefly, and then reached down to pull Erestor’s robes up and off of him. Glorfindel paused to take in Erestor’s strong but slighter body, and let out a soft growl of desire.

Erestor scooted back on the bed and beckoned his betrothed to join him. Glorfindel kissed and nipped down his neck, chest, and abdomen while Erestor writhed with anticipation. With a yank, Glorfindel pulled Erestor’s breechcloth down and off, and caressed the tender flesh near his erection, teasing and driving him wild. Finally, the warrior took hold of his shaft and stroked until Erestor was afraid he could not hold back. He wiggled out of Glorfindel’s grasp and scooted down on the bed until Glorfindel’s still covered crotch was above him. Yanking down the leggings, he set Glorfindel’s erection free and pulled him down until it penetrated Erestor’s mouth. Glorfindel closed his eyes, moaning while Erestor sucked and lapped at the iron hard cock, and then pulled out before he could spill.

Erestor hurriedly grabbed a vial of fine scented oil he had brought for his wedding night. He poured some over his fingers and ran them around his entrance and then over Glorfindel’s cock until it was gleaming. His warrior stood at the edge of the bed and grabbed Erestor’s legs, opening them wide and pulling Erestor into position.

Erestor closed his eyes and blew out deep breaths as Glorfindel finally entered him. The warrior’s movement stilled while Erestor got used to the girth, and then began a steadily increasing rhythm. Glorfindel reached down and stroked Erestor’s hardness in time with his thrusts. Inflaming his desire all the more, Erestor thought he could feel all of Glorfindel’s great strength pour through him while they were joined. Finally, he could no longer control his passion and cried out as he spilled over Glorfindel’s hand, the hard spurting continuing until he felt completely drained.

His climax spurred on his lover until Glorfindel gave a great groan and shuddered through an orgasm that hit him in wave after wave. He collapsed at last onto Erestor, breathing hard and damp with sweat, his heart pounding so hard that Erestor could feel it against his own chest. 

Their breathing slowed as they came down from their bliss, and Glorfindel moved to Erestor’s side and pulled him close against his chest. They said nothing for a long while, basking in the after glow of their lovemaking.

Eventually they dozed, still wrapped securely in their embrace. Before the dawn came creeping over the horizon, Erestor awoke and saw the nearly full moon shining through the windows that overlooked the gardens. He wiggled out of Glorfindel’s grasp, wrapped himself loosely in a blanket that had fallen to the floor, and went to the window to gaze out at the grounds of this new home, bathed in moonlight. Glorfindel stirred and came to stand behind him and wrapped Erestor in his powerful arms. As they looked out at the peaceful landscape, a shooting star streaked across the sky.

“Make a wish, my love,” Glorfindel whispered.

Erestor smiled. “I don’t need to. I now have everything I’ve ever wanted.”

~End~


End file.
